Miss him the most in the mornings.
Walking up to his hands reaching for warmth in the folds of my body. Looking and wanting more.
He would want to devour me and continue all day, however our daughter would wake up and our day had to begin.
He would pour himself over latest news reports on his phone or argue with morning TV. Four cigarettes later. I took to dishes and chores while he watched our beloved and only child.
I remember this but only cherish this now that he has gone. Oh how I long for those days, the banal and beautiful.